


I Love My Job

by Game_of_Thorns



Series: Game of Fanfic [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3784621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Game_of_Thorns/pseuds/Game_of_Thorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melisandre is tired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Love My Job

**Author's Note:**

> characters are not mine nor am I making any money from this.

Melisandre poured more wine into her cup, sipping on it slowly as she sat behind her desk, paperwork spread across its dark wood surface. She sighed as she read over the legal conditions of the documents Stannis had deposited on her desk. The words of the small print began to blur in front of her eyes, wavering in and out of focus, and she shook her head to clear her vision, hiding a yawn behind one manicured hand. A glance at the clock told her it was four thirty and she sighed heavily. Selyse would have shooed her out of the office and sent her home by now, but she was not at work that day and Melisandre pushed down her desire to see the young woman walk into her office and lean her small figure against the big oak desk as her scent washed over the redhead behind it.

She sipped at her wine and shifted her focus away from the brunette beauty and back to the paperwork. Her eyes drifted over the terms and conditions, which she could make neither head nor tail of. I love my job, I love my job… she thought, turning the page and taking another sip. She sighed, reminding herself to inform Stannis that he could do his own damn paperwork. Her eyes were half-way down the page when there was a loud knocking at her office door.

I love my job, I love my job, I love my job… she repeated, praying to the gods that it was not Stannis.  
“Come in!” she called, finishing off her wine. The door opened and a small brunette woman entered the room, smiling.  
“Hello Melisandre,” she said, “It’s past five o’clock.” For the first time that day, the redhead cracked a smile. She loved her job.


End file.
